The Problem With Portraits
by littlefiction
Summary: The problem with portraits is, there isn't any incentive to behave yourself. So what happens when the portrait of one Minerva McGonagall realizes this? MMAD humor and a hint of regret


Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or related stuff; all rights belong to J.K. Rowling.

A/N: My first Harry Potter fic! Yay!

Warnings: Spoilers for book 6, if you connect the dots. Contains MMAD fluff, humor, and shamelessness, and a hint of regret.

_The Problem With Portraits_

"The problem with portraits is there really isn't much incentive for one to behave. You could threaten to put a curtain over them, but as long as they are not somehow bound to their canvas, they could just move to a different frame. You can't fire them, you can't easily kill them, they don't need money, and it's rare to be able to black mail them because odds are, no matter how much dirt you have on them, they've got more on you." Phineas Black said, with the air of someone who would really rather pretend you didn't exist.

"Yes, but what has that got to do with not showing this lot my portrait?" Minerva asked irritably.

"You can't think of anything you'd like to do, but do not do out of obligation?"

"Well, yes, but that's obligation, not fear of consequence." She argued.

"Right," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

"Oh for goodness sakes, out with it."

"You're portrait has not been behaving, Minerva."

"Preposterous! That portrait is a visual representation of me- and I always behave."

"Maybe so, but apparently if you were to find yourself in the same situation as your portrait, you would not."

"Ridiculous." She huffed.

"Fine, go see for yourself."

"I will." And with that, she spun around sharply and walked away, Fred, George, and Lee in tow. "Remind me- why am I doing this?"

"Because you don't want to stifle our curiosity?" Fred offered, trying a little too hard to sound innocent. The professor stopped, instantly on guard.

"Because you're just so excited about it you fear you will burst if you don't show somebody?" George said, trying a bit to hard to sound convincing.

Minerva had just decided she would not be showing them after all.

"Because," Lee said simply, "you felt we looked suspicious, and thought this would be a good excuse to keep an eye on us."

"Right!" She said, before continuing her trek to her old office turned temporary studio. The portrait was done and all that was left to do was to have the frame made.

She opened her door without a second thought, looked right up at her portrait and declared, "Oh!"

Yes, there, on the recently painted canvas, was her very image, sitting on her desk and snogging with the image of her former headmaster, one Albus Dumbledore.

"Wow, go professors!" George cheered, while Minerva just stared in shock.

"You know, smooch you should smooch get them out smooch of here." Minerva's portrait said against Dumbledore's portrait's lips.

"Huh?" She said stupidly, blinking. She looked to the boys, who were staring with a mixture of morbid fascination and horror at the older couple's shameless display. "Ah! You three! Out!"

"But!" the boys protested.

"I said out!" and with a wave of her wand they were swept out of the room and into the hallway, the door shutting behind them. Minerva turned to the two portraits, who were making out like teenagers now that the boys were gone. "You two! Stop it at once! What are you thinking?"

Albus kissed his Minerva once more before looking up at her namesake with a smile. "The answers are 'No.' and 'Each other', in that order, my dear." With that he resumed where he left off.

"But, you can't just-"

"Yes, yes we can. The thing of it is," he said between kisses, "There really isn't any reason not to." He moved to his lover's neck and she closed her eyes contentedly.

"It's unprofessional!" Minerva explained desperately.

Minerva's portrait put a hand on her lover's shoulder and he stopped. She faced her namesake and spoke, sounding, and looking, exhausted. "It was hard, for forty years, to work with him, facing a lifetime of always being near him and always behaving. It was hard, but I did it. But now I'm facing an eternity by his side, with no battles to fight and no reason at all not to spend the rest of my existence in his arms. And I'm tired- I can't do it. And I'm not going to." With that, she rested her head on Albus' shoulder as he held her gently in his arms.

"Besides," The image of Albus calmly chided, eyes closed as he just enjoyed holding his dearest close, "you know we should have done this years ago."

Minerva calmly walked out, shutting the door behind her. Her former students were long gone. She leaned on the door for support, closed her eyes, and sighed. _Yes, _she thought, _we should have._

The End

Wow, the ratio of fluff to regret was not nearly what I had intended, but I'm happy with the results.


End file.
